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embedded journalist in the Kalmyk steppe

Moscow, Kirov, Izhevsk (March 2004). The press office of Russian Railways, it had never been problems. An interview with the rail head was not a problem, it had therefore been called as expected. In a week or two I would get the appointment. The editorial offices was pleased with the commitment and reserved an entire newspaper page for their next Eastern European special edition.



Fadeev (speaking) with his replacement as rail boss in the summer of 2005

Gennady Fadeev was an interesting man, he built the monstrous Russian Ministry of Railways to just in a corporation. By his subordinates of the white-haired Fadeev was often just "Djeduschka" called "Grandfather" also. Already during the communist era he was deputy railway minister, he had already reached retirement age. But still he flew tirelessly in matters of official business around the globe.

The enormous capacity for work of the "grandfather" cried out for employees sincere admiration. Unfortunately, it also meant that I could give his press office partout no interview. But it would work and certainly in time, I heard every demand. Five days before a deadline, I was getting impatient. "Oh, that does not look good," said a spokeswoman, finally. I reminded her of demanding a firm commitment and the blank newspaper page. there is only one possibility, "she said finally. I could accompany the rail head on the next day on a business trip in the Urals. Heading his team a chance, would arrange for an interview.


interviewees roars to escort them

A bus of Russian Railways in the early morning brought us out of the city near the airport Scheremetjewo, wo von einem separaten Terminal Privatmaschinen starten. Fadejew reiste mit Komfort: Eine zum Geschäftsflugzeug umgebaute Tupolew-134 wartete auf uns. Insgesamt wollten sieben Journalisten mit in den Ural, darunter auch zwei Leute vom "1. Kanal" des russischen Fernsehens, die ebenfalls ein exklusives Interview mit dem rasenden Großvater abgesprochen hatten. Unglücklich an unserer Lage war nun vor allem, dass die Presseleute hinten im Flugzeug in einem abgeteilten Raum saßen, Fadejew und seine wichtigsten Mitarbeiter vorne hinter einer verschlossenen Tür.

"Auf dem Hinflug wird das nichts mit dem Interview", raunte mir Konstantin Paschkow zu, als er kurz nach dem Start durch die Tür nach hinten kam. Fadejew must still prepare for its official meetings. The PR chief of the railway promised he would arrange an interview during a break in Kirov. During a break? My doubts grew as to whether I would return this evening with an interview on the Voice back to Moscow.

first anyway, the national media were on the train when we landed at the airport of Kirov. The condition of the airport was completely deserted after the close of the first machine for months. "Why is the rail head is actually with the aircraft," asked the Kirov regional television. "Listen, the day after tomorrow I should be in Vladivostok, as they face the actually going, "growled Fadeev, climbed into a waiting black Mercedes and sped off with police escort. The press followed at a distance of two kilometers in a bus.

Gennady Fadeev was an important man, that was immediately apparent when you saw the provincial governor and other important people dealt humbly with the Moscow guest. The regional companies were specially built for the visitor a small industrial exhibition. Probably they hoped to get a piece of the billion-dollar investments, which awarded the railways, especially in the form of contracts. New locomotives New tracks, new signal systems, the ailing railway as a public company would make the leap into the 21st century. It was about huge sums Fadeev and the conversation sought with everyone.

A question for the German press

came after three hours, the railway employees in slight panic. The daily schedule was already fallen into utter confusion. The lunch was canceled, commanded by the press in the bus. When we arrived at the airport, we even ran out onto the tarmac, up the gangway and knocked on the door outside the Tupolev, because there was nowhere to be seen airport staff. We had strapped ourselves as the Fadeev escort arrived on the runway and closed the door of a friendly stewardess back room.

We went east to the second stop on the day's journey. After Izhevsk in Udmurtia - An autonomous Russian republic, were invented in the so-important things like the Kalashnikov submachine gun and the Pelmenis. In Izhevsk was still snow, a group costume with bread and salt, and the Udmurt Republic President formed the welcoming committee and froze in the snow rain. The rail head jumped back into a waiting car and disappeared, with some distance we followed. My newspaper page was still as white as in the morning.

Meanwhile Pashkov had declared to the traveling press, the inauguration of the brand-new sleeper Izhevsk - Moscow, for its maiden voyage Fadeev wanted to enter the departure whistle was scrapped due to time constraints. Regardless, the press office had in the morning eine Mitteilung zum Thema an die Nachrichtenagenturen versendet. Die wiederum hatten den Besuch inzwischen längst über ihre Ticker vermeldet, obwohl die beschriebenen Ereignisse weder stattgefunden hatten noch jemals stattfinden würden. Immerhin sollte es ein kurzes Treffen für Journalisten geben. "Und mein Interview?", fragte ich, mehr flehend. Für alles sei gesorgt, versicherte Paschkow.

Ein großer Haufen von Journalisten umringte im Eisenbahner-Kulturpalast von Ischewsk den Bahnchef, doch Paschkow ließ die Reporter nach zwei Minuten zurückschieben. "Jetzt nur noch die deutsche Presse und der '1. Kanal"' sagte er gebieterisch und zog die Fernsehleute und mich in einen Nebenraum. "Jeder von euch eine Frage", He then opened up to us. Before I was still wondering whether this is seriously my should be for months scheduled exclusive interview, came after Fadeev and we could make him really all a question to which he replied, shortly before he was of his team pulled out of the room. His negotiations with the Udmurt President waited. The press went back behind the bus, then we waited an hour before the ostentatious presidential palace. At least I had had Pashkov still know what I thought of this way of organizing an interview. He nodded sympathetically and promised to help.

"I answer to everything even"

On the return flight Moscow saw the blank newspaper page with me forever unpleasant stomach pain. As Pashkov came for a short time in our back room, I asked now with all the vehemence of my conversation. He went back and promised to persuade Fadeev. But that would be difficult after a hard day his boss was pretty tired and worn out.

After all, he returned after a short time. "Ten minutes at most," was his verdict, and now I was dozing in the front room of the machine where the rail head is exhausted in his chair. For the ten minutes were 15, then said Pashkov ended the conversation for me and brought back to the rear. Fadeev had a lot of usable however, does not say that. "From this I can do anything reasonable," I scolded. Pashkov nodded. Then he made a proposal to finish: "I write all the questions on DC tomorrow morning I will answer itself on everything, and you can, to quote and make at all with the material, what you want.."

When I was two days later, half an hour before the Hamburg copy deadline, the fragments of Udmurtia, plane call and Paschkows versions together into a text, I swore I never talk to again with the railway press office. In the last minute after all the railway workers had kept their word. The newspaper page had become full - and what I was most surprised - no one had asked me to submit the interview before the release to the counter reading. After all, the conversation was no longer necessarily all too authentic, and the German railway is already demanding authorization, if journalists want to quote only one sentence of the Press Secretary.

But at least some bad habits of the free Western media had not yet arrived in Russia. The raging grandfather would have already been much too busy to read his own interviews again.

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A Night in the Soviet prison

Elista (September 2003). An empty dark main road, no street lights to see people. So that was Elista, the capital of the Russian republic of strange Kalmykia. Center of Russian Buddhists. Venue for the world chess championship. But at half past four clock in the morning but at first only a dark Provinzkaff 1600 km away from the warm Moscow apartment.




The night bus from Rostov had stopped right in front of the only hotel in town and drove the same, as we had unloaded our bags. But me still a young woman got out in camouflage uniforms, apparently a military personnel. We both ran over to the locked door of the hotel and knocked. The porter, an old Kalmuck made only a small slit wide open. "All evidence," he snarled curtly and proposed the door again before we have much to say.

"insolence," murmured the woman, then she said, turning to me. "Irina, military prosecutor of Rostov. I will arrange hotel rooms for both of us already. Come on, do not we go to the Military District Command. "Together we then walked down the dark street.


tea and biscuits in the morning at six clock

inserted before the Army National Guard two young recruits. She winced as my new friend rattled the gate. "I will now speak to the commander," she cried, calling name and rank. Before I could even think about whether I not me should adopt better, we were let in no questions asked, we were sat in a waiting room, served tea with biscuits and promised to immediately wake up the military commander of the Kalmyk government.

Meanwhile, the young prosecutor explained the reason for their trip. She was the prosecutor in the trial of a young soldier from a village in the Kalmyk steppe. He had run over with a truck in Chechnya several children. Of course he was completely innocent, Irina assured that the Chechens would constantly push their children from intentionally Russian military vehicles, they said in all seriousness. But any process there must just give, it should be the law. Therefore, it is on the way to a town in southern Kalmykia.

If the commander calls the hotel, people would then immediately beat up their heels and find a free room, she was safe. I also wanted to help her, the prosecutor promised. She would just say, I was sent by the Moscow Department of Defense to report on the case law in the military and about the process. Your official guide, so to speak.

The legend becomes a problem

So I was then presented to the thick Kalmyk field commander, a friendly man with a sitting perfectly uniform, which seemed a bit confused, because at six clock in the morning suddenly sat for a prosecutor and a foreign correspondent in his office. He let us continue to serve, eventually showed us some pictures of his children and then went to take care of the hotel room. "Before anything, the fear," Irina said with an expert eye.

The Colonel was now always courteous. No way we should go out by bus to the court after Prijutnoje. He would leave us like his personal chauffeur service with Volga. And, oh yes, two single rooms in the hotel are also just become free when we return to the process. Irina had my horrified look immediately seen through. "Excuse me, but now you have to still play the role well for a while," she whispered. Unwittingly, I was "embedded journalists" the Russian armed forces have become.

Direct from the grounds of the military administration, we started at this unexpected for me and especially unplanned trip. Full tilt, the black car roared with army service mark through the treeless, gently rolling steppe. We stopped in front of the local army recruiting office, where Irina wanted to discuss their approach to the process again. I looked from the window on the village street, the one-story stone houses with corrugated iron roofs, the grazing cows and leafed through the corridor in laid out copies of the army newspaper Red Star. " Half an hour later

my attorney was angry from the office. Everything was free, the judge was sick, they complained, we jumped back into the official car and left us in the capital return. With such a quick release, I had not even expected. As the trial ended later, I have never experienced. It's possible that the judge found that Chechens would throw their children to the Russians before the cars.



Buddha's return to the country Chalmg Tangtsch

From Karsten Packeiser, Elista. After two hundred kilometers Ride across the steppe Elista seems like a mirage. The capital of the autonomous Russian republic of Kalmykia surprise with lots of green grass amidst parched landscape and many new buildings with exotic pagoda roofs. Currently Elista only knows one thing: The announced with great pomp visit of the Dalai Lama in the only traditional Buddhist region in Europe has to fail again.

"Many old people have so been waiting for his holiness," says a woman who sold in the lobby of the great Buddhist temple on the outskirts of incense, amulets, and images of the Dalai Lama. "They wanted to see him again before they die" she adds, then big tears rolling down her face. In order not to burden the relationship with China, the Russian Foreign Ministry as early as the Nobel Peace Prize last year refused a visa again.

"That's absurd," Telo Tulku Rinpoche also wonders, the spiritual head of Kalmyk Buddhists. "Even during times of Brezhnev was the Dalai Lama to travel to the Soviet Union, but the new democratic Russia, he may no longer visit. I understand, "said the lama," that is politics. But what we have faithful to do with politics? "

300,000 people, as many sheep

called in Kalmykia, in the Mongolian language Chalmg Tangtsch living between the Volga and the Caucasus on an area the size of Bavaria just over 300,000 people and about as many sheep. Like the Germans from Russia were the Kalmyk during the 2nd World War II was deported to Siberia, ostensibly because they collaborated with the Wehrmacht. In exile and in the years after the return they could speak neither language, or exercise their religion. "In the early 90's years, the people no longer knew who they were and what is Buddhism," says Telo Tulku Rinpoche, a descendant of Kalmyk immigrants, who grew up in the U.S..

Since the skurrile Millionär Kirsan Iljuschinow 1993 die Macht in der Steppenrepublik übernahm, wurde den Nachfahren der mongolischen Nomaden die Rückkehr zu den Traditionen ihrer Vorväter verordnet. Während Iljumschinows Regierungszeit entstanden überall in Kalmückien buddhistische Reliquienschreine und Tempel, angeblich teils aus dessen Privatvermögen bezahlt. Als Präsident des Schachverbandes FIDE holte er die Schach-Olympiade in das der Welt bis dato gänzlich unbekannte staubige Steppenstädtchen Elista.

Kritische Journalistin ermordet

Gleichzeitig brach die Wirtschaft Kalmückiens endgültig zusammen, in Elista gibt es inzwischen weder einen öffentlichen Busverkehr noch a street lighting at night. Iljumschinows sharpest critic, journalist Larisa Yudina, fell victim to a brutal murder. Many opponents offers the busy business man of mismanagement, despite his concerns about national culture and the religious revival of Kalmykia.

"Even when we are separated church and state," said Mikhail Burninow responsible in the presidential administration for the contacts with religious organizations, the policies of his bosses. "But the state has destroyed in Soviet times, the religious culture. What we do is to send a message of atonement. "

(EPD)
Originally
published by Russia News .